


Solitary

by Shadow15



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow15/pseuds/Shadow15
Summary: After losing the fight to Zakuro in the Vongola Base, Squalo is taken back to the Millefiore's temporary base where he is held captive by the Funeral Wreath. He had heard about before, but he couldn't say he had ever suffered Stockholme Syndrome until now. Zakuro/Squalo





	1. Chapter 1

It was incredibly rare for Squalo to misjudge an opponent’s strength, and even rarer for him to be overpowered, but here he was, kneeling on the shattered floor of the Vongola Base as the building burned all around him and Zakuro.  It was hard to ignore the pain that came with having had his arm ripped clean off, but his pride was too strong to submit here; even though he could tell he didn’t have a chance at winning, he was still going to fight.

The only problem was, it seemed that Squalo truly had no idea of the immense power the other had, because before he even knew what had hit him, he was lying face-up on the bloodied tiles of what had once been a Vongola HQ corridor as his body twitched uncontrollably in pain.  He could feel blood pooling around his head, surely coming from a crack somewhere in his skull that matched the countless others in the floors and walls now, but he wasn’t focused too much on that; instead, from the corner of his eye, he watched as boots came to stand next to his head.  He twisted his lips into a nasty grimace, and though he prepared himself to say something, all hope of that was lost as, with one swift kick from Zakuro, the searing pain in his head worsened to an unbearable level for just one split second, and then his entire world went black. 

**_~~XX~~_ **

When Squalo regained consciousness, he blinked slowly at the white roof above his head.  He frowned; hadn’t the base been on fire…?  Why was this room in tact…?

And then it hit him; wherever he was, he was no longer at the Vongola Headquarters.

“Voi…” An expression of pain crossed Squalo’s face as he pushed himself slowly into a sitting position.  He quickly fell onto his back as his left arm gave out beneath his weight, but it was then he realised something of utmost importance; hadn’t he been put into such a vulnerable position _because_ he had lost his arm?  So why… was it back in one piece like this?!  “What the fuck happened…?”

Squalo wasn’t in the mood to try and think too hard about this; his head was pounding furiously with a splitting headache, making it too difficult to think clearly anyway, and the best he could do was lay there with his eyes shut and try to wait out the burning pain all through his body that felt as if he himself were on fire, just like the base had been. 

Alas, as much as Squalo could have hoped for, the door to the room still opened, and he was met again by that smirk that had pissed him off in the first place.  It was at that moment Squalo knew that no matter how hard he could have tried, he wasn’t going to be getting away any time soon. 


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s kind of funny watching you try and worm your way off the bed, idjit.” As if it were testimony to his words, a large grin spread across Zakuro’s face.  “It might be easier with this, don’t you think?”

The furious glare that was plastered onto Squalo’s face vanished as he watched his kidnapper pull something out from behind his back, and as soon as his grey eyes fixed on what had once been his arm, a horrified expression crossed his face instead.  “Voi!  Give that back, fucker!”

Zakuro laughed.  “What are you going to do with it?  Use it to whack off or something?  It’s no use having it if it’s not attached to your body, idjit.”

Squalo growled loudly as his irate mood returned.  “Give it back, asshole!  I’m going to kill you!  You hear me?!  Voi!”

The redhead’s eyes wandered over Squalo’s thrashing body.  He licked his lips as his eyes focused instead on what was left of his victim’s arm.  “If you want it back that badly, I’m sure I could do something for you.”

There was something about those words that had Squalo freezing in his tracks.  He watched the other with a look that was quickly becoming wary, not daring to make a move; he was sure that if he were to move in the slightest, Zakuro would pounce like a cat stalking its prey. 

As if he had read the long-haired male’s thoughts, Zakuro stomped forward to the bed.  He was vaguely amused as the smaller male begun thrashing again, this time in an effort to get free of his bindings and flee for safety, but it was no use; the Varia Rain wasn’t getting out of his restraints any time soon. 

It was unbecoming of Squalo to let out a scream the way he did, but then again he had never been in this position before, helpless and vulnerable to whatever the other had in mind for him.  He tried pushing the man off him when he felt the crushing weight of a body on top of his, but it was pointless; all his writhing had earned him was a punch to the jaw he knew was going to leave his face puffy and bruised the next day.  “Get off!  Get the fuck off!  Xanxus!  Xanxus, help!”

Zakuro grabbed silver hair and tugged it harshly.  He waited until grey eyes had locked onto his before he said in a dangerously low tone, “That idjit you call a boss isn’t coming for you.  You lot are nothing but ants to him, and you’ll be replaced without a second thought.  Byakuran tells us your Storm Guardian has a lot of potential.”

Squalo threw himself forward so his skull connected with Zakuro’s nose.  “Xanxus wouldn’t replace me, least of all with that psychotic brat…  You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about…”

Zakuro was completely unaffected by the blood dripping from his nose now.  “Is that what you think?  You really think he’d _ever_ bother looking for you?  For _any_ of you?  You’re no more special than any of the other officers are, even if you _are_ the strongest – to your boss, you’re replaceable, just like the rest of your officers.”   

Squalo didn’t know how to reply; he was so busy running those words through his mind, he didn’t even notice Zakuro grabbing his stumped arm – not until something sharp pierced through his flesh and muscle.  He yelped and instinctively tried to pull his arm away, but in his current state, Zakuro was much too strong for him, and all he could do was black out for reasons that weren’t entirely because of pain. 

**~~XX~~**

When Squalo came to, the first thing he realised was that the arm that had been ripped in half had been reattached, but even though his prosthetic hand was back, all traces of his sword were gone.  He groaned loudly as nausea overwhelmed him, but he swallowed it down in order for him to look at his arm and find glaring black thread holding his limb together in a haphazard manner.  He curled his fingers to see if they still worked and, to his relief, they did – but even though he had his arm back, he still wasn’t able to free himself.

Squalo closed his eyes as he forced himself to relax; it wasn’t going to do him any good to work himself up before he could come up and an escape plan.  He tried to focus on his breathing, and it _was_ calming for several minutes, but the peace that was slowly washing over him vanished within seconds when he heard the heavy footfalls of someone walking in the direction of his room.  He didn’t realise his breath had caught in his throat; all he could think was that Xanxus had finally come for him – hell, at this point, he wouldn’t even complain if _Levi_ was here for him because all he cared about was getting the fuck out of there.

But alas, his hope was shattered when his door opened and Zakuro stood in the doorway with his usual smirk on his face. 

“The fuck do _you_ want?” Squalo hissed. 

The Millefiore member scratched at his head in a mocking manner.  “Byakuran said I should feed you or else you’ll probably die like the pathetic dog you are.”

“Voi!  Don’t call me a fucking dog!  When those Vongola brats find out about this, they’ll –“ Squalo trailed off; _would_ the Vongola find out about this…?  What if they just assumed he had been killed in the explosion…?

“They’ll, what, huh?  They aren’t any different from the Varia.  But I’m here, and I’m offering to feed you.  Should you really be thinking so high and mighty of the Family that’s willing to leave you at my mercy because they couldn’t even be bothered finding out if you’re still alive?”

“…”

Zakuro chuckled.  “That’s what I thought.” 

The Varia Officer shuddered when Zakuro approached him, but he couldn’t do anything about it; he had already tried and found out that it was useless resisting; maybe if he went peacefully along with his enemy, it might give him an opportunity to escape…

Squalo wasn’t used to complying.  Well, actually, he had _never_ complied before because there was a reason he had once upon a time been appointed as the boss of Varia; someone of his skill and strategy _didn’t_ lose. 

…Except for now, to someone who seemed as interested in playing with their food as Squalo was…

Zakuro said nothing as he came to stand by the bed and slide a key into the locks that were keeping the chains together.  He stepped back as the heavy restraints fell to the bed, but still he said nothing, not until Squalo had sat up and rubbed at his wrists chafed and bloodied from so much struggling.  “Are you going to come quietly or will I have to break some bones in your body?”

Squalo closed his eyes; he wasn’t used to this feeling of defeat because it felt too akin to the depression he battled in silence every moment of his life.  What was the point in trying to get away?  He couldn’t do anything in his condition, and he may as well just wait for rescue.  Why did this reality… make him feel so empty inside…?

Zakuro understood what the silence meant; he didn’t have to worry about Squalo trying to run away because the other was already defeated – but it wasn’t _Zakuro_ who had done the defeating; no, he wasn’t _that_ egotistical to think that was the case.  The truth was, Squalo had defeated _himself_ , and the redhaired male was honestly a little disappointed; he had been sure the shark would be more fun than this.

…Oh, well.  There were _other_ things he could do to make the Strategy Captain break beneath his fingertips.

“Walk.”

Squalo didn’t need to be told twice.  He followed behind the other on feet that felt far too unsteady to support to his own weight, and several times he tripped and stumbled.  He felt his pride bruising more and more with each passing moment, but there was nothing he could do about that; not until he was finally led into what looked to be some sort of dining room touched by the dilapidation of time.  He coughed harshly as dust filled his longs; he was so used to the immaculate condition of the Varia Mansion, he felt his flesh itching from the filthiness he was presented with.

“Byakuran is sending cleaners.” Zakuro shoved Squalo towards the table that looked as if it were ready to collapse any minute now.  “He doesn’t associate himself with these kinds of places, either, but this was the best place for me to hide you in; no one will ever find you out here.”

Squalo picked himself up from the ground he had fallen on.  He glared over his shoulder at his kidnapper, but he otherwise said nothing; he just braced himself for the filth he was about to sit on and pray that he wasn’t going to get sick. 

“Here’s your dinner.” Zakuro threw a plate onto the table with so little care, it split into two right before Squalo. 

The smaller male’s eyes hardened at the food he was presented with before he raised his hand to his mouth and tried to hold back the bile that was quickly rising up his throat; Zakuro… expected him to eat _that…_ with no complaints…?

“What?  You never eaten mouldy bread before, idjit?  You’re spoiled; so spoiled.  You knew a life of luxury, and now you will know a life of poverty like those civilians your Storm Guardian cuts down in the streets for fun.  You can’t be picky with your food when it’s either eat and survive, or perish from hunger.”

Squalo turned his head away, wanting to yell about how he was no poverty-stricken civilian and wouldn’t eat bullshit like this, but he couldn’t open his mouth lest his vomit everywhere. 

Zakuro chuckled again, and this time it was foreboding.  He reached out to grab the bread that was so moulded, it looked to have been sitting on that plate for years.  He grabbed Squalo’s hair again and tugged hard enough to have the other yelp in pain, and with that, he shoved the bread into the Rain Guardian’s mouth.

It was then Squalo really _did_ throw up, and Zakuro showed nothing but enjoyment.  If this was going to be a daily thing, well…  Then Squalo didn’t know what he was going to do… 

**_~~XX~~_ **

It wasn’t until night had fallen did Squalo finally take the time to look around his new room.  He still felt incredibly sick from being force-fed mouldy bread, and even just lying on his back motionless wasn’t stopping the dizziness. 

The man could tell that it was night-time because, despite the tiny window at the top of wall being covered in grime, the small rays of light that had managed to penetrate through were no longer present, and darkness had settled into the room.  The bedroom was just as dusty and run-down as the dining room had been, with broken furniture settled all over the floor and holes in the walls.  From a crack in the roof, water dripped steadily down onto him from what he assumed must have been rain, and he couldn’t stop himself from shaking with the cold draft that was consuming him.

“F-fuck…” Squalo’s teeth chattered as he tried desperately to curl into a ball for warmth, but it was impossible with the way he had been restrained; even his ankles had chains around them now.  “X-x-xanxus…  Takeshi…  S-someone…”

Squalo didn’t know how long he had been lying there, whimpering to himself, but he was so focused on the cold, he almost missed the door to his room opening again.  He didn’t turn to look at what Zakuro was doing; he only listened to the heavy footfalls that came closer to him. 

“I want you alive, idjit.” With that, something heavy draped over Squalo’s thin body.  “You aren’t any fun dead.”

It was then the long-haired man turned his head to look at what had been put over him.  He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that a blanket was now covering him, and by the time he finally worked out what he wanted to say, he lifted his head to speak, only to find that Zakuro was already gone.

Squalo sighed.  He closed his eyes and tried not to focus so much on what was happening; maybe if he could get a bit of rest, he would be able to get back to his old self and find a way out of here. 

Maybe…  


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter contains rape.  For those uncomfortable reading it, you can find an edited version on my fanfiction dot net account Biscuit15.**

Squalo didn’t know what time it was when he was awoken to the sounds of the door to his bedroom being unbolted from the outside.  He tried to sit up, but he was too dizzy; even just opening his eyes made the world sway.  He was shaking violently, feeling as if he were submerged in icy water, and his head pounded furiously against his skull, irritated by the squeaking of the door as it was opened.

“You need to piss, idjit?  Are you hungry?” Zakuro continued approaching, despite not getting any responses.  He reached out when he was close enough and grabbed long silver hair, pulling the smaller male’s head upwards.  He sneered at the screech of pain he earned, but he didn’t relent; why should he?   “It’s really not a good idea to ignore me, you know?  I’m trying to be nice to you here, and all you’re doing is making things worse for yourself, idjit.  Do you _want_ me to punish you?  Is that it?  Because I’d be _more_ than happy to.”

Squalo groaned as he was dropped back onto the bed.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried so desperately to curl into a ball for warmth, but it was useless when the mattress he was laying on was still damp from the rain last night. 

Zakuro’s sneer widened when Squalo still gave no response.  “Well, then. I guess _punishment_ is in order.”

Squalo barely took notice of anything around him – that was, until he felt his Varia jacket being unbuttoned.  He let out a weak hiss as he tried to scoot backwards across the bed and put distance between them, but it was useless; the chains gave him all of an inch to move, and he could do nothing more except crack open an eyelid and watch as large hands carelessly ripped all of the buttons off in one swoop.

“Ya know I’d have left them intact if you didn’t try and get away.  You’re only making this harder on yourself.” With that said, Zakuro climbed onto the bed to tower over Squalo on his hands and knees.  The Varia Rain went still as a look of panic crossed his face;  the long-haired man knew what was in store for him, and every last bit of pride and strength he had left vanished.  “Are ya scared, idjit?  You should be.  If you had just listened in the first place, this might not have needed to happen.  But it’s your fault; next time, just listen.”

Squalo flinched when the loud tearing of fabric sounded through his throbbing headache.  He looked down to see that the white button up shirt he wore beneath his uniform jacket had been ripped in half; was this really happening?  Or was he so sick, he was hallucinating?  “Don’t…”

“You decide to speak now, do you?” Zakuro’s hands travelled lower now, stopping on Squalo’s belt.  “If you had spoken to me earlier and told me what you needed this morning, this wouldn’t be happening.  You need to be taught a lesson like the disobedient pet you are.  Tell me somethin’; does your boss do this to you, too?  Surely he’d treat the lot of you like his own personal whores.  But you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?  Does it make you horny just thinking about it?  Here’s a tip; it might help a little bit for now if you try and imagine me as your shitty boss.”

Through the haze in his mind, Squalo still shook his head.  His voice was weak and hoarse from the soreness in his throat as he mumbled, “F-fuck off…  He doesn’t… do this shit… to us…”

Zakuro’s hands were deceivingly gentle as he unbuckled the belt now.  He laughed a little at the gloved hands that tried to bat them away; his cute little Rain Guardian needed breaking, and from the looks of things, this would do it.

“The more you fight it, the more it hurts.  Haven’t you learnt that?”

Squalo wasn’t sure if it were from his sickness or what was happening, but he rolled onto his side and vomited all over the mattress.  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this sick, perhaps when he had been a teenager living on the streets… 

“You’re gonna have ta’ clean that up soon.  We haven’t got clean sheets out here so it’s in ya best interest ta not spoil ‘em.” With that said, the redhead pulled down the zip of Squalo’s pants and lowered them past his hips.  **(FF.NET LINEBREAK)**

“Fuck off!” Squalo winced as he felt a finger rub him in places he had never wanted to be touched. 

“You don’t want any preparation?  That’s fine.  You’re a fool, though; this is gonna hurt.” Zakuro wasted no time in slamming himself past walls so tight, there was instant lubrication with the flood of blood that was now staining the bedsheets in puddles. 

Squalo let out a howl of pain as his body tensed further.  His fingers were curled into the bedsheets so tight, they were ripping in places.  He felt as if his body were being split in two, and he wasn’t even given any time to become used to this before Zakuro started moving again.  He threw his head back against the moulding pillow beneath him as he _swore_ he could feel his lungs ripping apart from the scream he had let loose. 

“Stop!  Fucking _stop!_ It _hurts,_ you bastard!” If Squalo were a lesser man, he would have cried himself dry – don’t get him wrong, though; he was sure that, any second now, the floodgates were about to break and his face would be wet with tears.  “Oww!  Get off!”

Zakuro reached out and wrapped his hands around his victim’s throat.  He squeezed hard enough for bruises to begin forming, and he didn’t relent; not until the long-haired man was on the verge of passing out.

“Ya should have _listened,_ idjit.” Zakuro’s hips continued slamming against Squalo’s.  The loud sounds of skin slapping against skin filled his eardrums, and he didn’t know if he liked that, or the sounds of Squalo’s begging more.  “If ya listened, this wouldn’t have happened.  I had to punish ya.  This is _your_ fault.”

Squalo scratched at his own face as the pain only grew worse.  He couldn’t hold back his tears now; he sobbed, loud and hard.  “Stop – stop – stop – _please!_ ”

Zakuro grunted in pleasure.  His breathing was harsh, but it didn’t stop him from talking.  “Soon; I’m almost done.”

After what felt like an eternity, Squalo’s insides burned worse than ever as his torn entrance was filled completely with Zakuro’s finish.  He didn’t know if it were from the pain, what had just happened, or even his illness, but he blacked out, unable to carry on.

But then again, when he would come to, he would lay there and think if perhaps it had been the stress of wondering…

What were the other Varia guardians going to think of him _now…?_

**_~~XX~~_ **

When Squalo came to, he felt numb.  He wasn’t used to feeling this way; sure, he had felt empty at times due to depression, but never like this; this was…  Was he even _human,_ still…? 

The man tried to hold back further vomit as his fever only continued to make his abused body ache even more; no matter how hard he was trying, he couldn’t stop shaking from the freezing cold it seemed only he could feel.  He chanced a glance to look down at his bedding, but he was now wishing he hadn’t; the stench of vomit, blood, and semen was already overpowering, let alone seeing the oceans of evidence. 

Squalo forced himself to close his eyes and keep them shut; if he didn’t see it, it couldn’t exist…  Right…? 

“You awake, idjit?”

Squalo flinched at the voice coming from his doorway.  He wanted so badly to pretend he was still passed out or even sleeping, but from what had just happened, he was almost too afraid to do so; would it only earn him another assault…?

The Varia Rain gave a tiny nod.  He still wouldn’t open his eyes, but at least he didn’t have to see his attacker.  He shuddered when footsteps signalled the man was coming closer to him, and his breath caught in his throat when all of his restraints where removed and he was picked up off the bed.  He groaned quietly as his body throbbed angrily in protest, and to his complete surprise, all he received in return was a gentle caress of the cheek, as if to say it was going to be okay.

“I’ve got a bath prepared for ya.  You’ve got a horrible fever.” Zakuro’s voice wasn’t caring in the slightest.  It was still as rough as it had been since Squalo had met the other.  In fact, there wasn’t even the slightest bit of caring about the Funeral Wreath that Squalo could pick up; it was as if he were just doing this so the long-haired man wouldn’t keel over and die on him. 

Squalo refused to open his eyes, not until he felt himself being lowered into hot water.  He hissed as it agitated his wounds, and as he looked down, he realised why; this water was filthy, and it would probably do nothing but give him countless infections.  He wanted to scream and yell and _beg_ for clean water, but after what had happened…

Well, even Squalo couldn’t seem to find his voice. 

The Rain Guardian laid still in the water as he felt himself being bathed.  He tried to ignore the murky water that was quickly turning red with his blood; Zakuro was right, and it _would_ be easier on him if he didn’t fight – but even if he wanted to, he didn’t have the energy…

In the weakest voice he had ever used, Squalo mumbled, “Why are you doing this…?  Surely you lot have better things to do…”

Zakuro smirked.  “Perhaps.  But we _do_ get restless in downtimes.  What’s wrong with having a pet to play with?  Soon enough we’ll accomplish our goals.  Who knows; I might bring back another pet or two to keep ya company.  I did have my eyes on your Storm Guardian, but from what Lord Byakuran tells us, he’d just let anyone fuck ‘im.  That’s no fun.”

“Bullshit…  He’s not a whore…”

“We’ll see about that.”

Squalo sighed.  As much as he wanted to stick up for his subordinate, he just couldn’t; he didn’t have the energy to continue talking, and all he wanted was to be left alone.  He fell silent, but even so, he was still greatly relieved when he felt himself being pulled out of the tub and a towel was being wrapped around his thin frame.  He didn’t feel any cleaner after his bath; he only felt as if even more grime and filth were clinging to his skin.

When the long-haired man was carried from the bathroom, he pleaded silently to whatever higher being was listening that he wasn’t going to be taken back to that bedroom.  As if his prayers had been answered, the bedroom was bypassed and he was instead taken out to a run-down living room that looked as if it would collapse in on itself any second now.  He was laid down on a couch so dusty, it made him sneeze, but at least he was given reprieve when Zakuro disappeared for a minute to return with what was left of his Varia uniform.  He said nothing as his pants and jacket were put back onto him; he could only look anywhere but at Zakuro.

“I’m gonna clean yer sheets.  Don’t go anywhere.”

Squalo closed his eyes, and maybe it was the stress of everything that had happened, but he couldn’t stop himself from sobbing quietly into the back of the couch.  At least no one else could see him like this…   

 


End file.
